


if i'm home or with you, it's the same

by potentiallythiswillbegay



Series: i can stay [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Coming Out, First Kisses, Fluff, M/M, Michael has two moms, boyf riends - Freeform, its just fluff y'all, pinkberry is mentioned for 0.5 seconds, pretty short, set in canon storyline, the squip squad is all there but i just tagged the main two people who feature in this fic, told in the ages of jeremy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 06:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13229673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiallythiswillbegay/pseuds/potentiallythiswillbegay
Summary: Jeremy was thirteen when it dawned on him just how much Michael trusted him.jeremy heere and what he realised as he grew up, from the ages of thirteen to seventeen.





	if i'm home or with you, it's the same

**Author's Note:**

> this is short but i liked the idea
> 
> title from 'stay' by reuben hudson
> 
>  
> 
> **tw for hints at suicidal thoughts in the 'Jeremy was sixteen when...' section!**

 Jeremy was thirteen when it dawned on him just how much Michael trusted him.

“Jeremy… can I tell you something?” The young Michael (who smelt less of weed but still wore hoodies) paused the game they were playing.

“Of course!” For the first time in all the years of knowing Michael, Jeremy had never seen him so… worried. At least, never when it was just the two of them.

“Can you promise me something first? Will you still be my friend?” And okay, that hurt. Knowing Michael was so scared about something that he would question Jeremy’s devotion to him and their friendship, that was painful.

“Of course. You’ll always be my best friend, Mikey.” Michael nodded and finally met Jeremy’s eyes.

“I think I might be- no, I _am_ gay.”

 “Oh.”

You know, Jeremy couldn’t see he never saw this coming. But the terrified look was still on Michael’s face as he tried to read Jeremy’s expression.

“You’re still my best friend.” That felt necessary to say. “How long have you known?”

Happy shock at the sudden acceptance quickly overtook the fear on the other boy’s face, surprising a laugh out of him.

“For a while. Maybe when you realised girls were a thing and I still cared more about video games?”

“Oi!” Jeremy laughed but settled as another thought emerged in his head. “You were worried I wasn’t going to be okay with you being gay, right?” Michael nodded hesitantly. “You realise I’ve known you and your _two moms_ for years now, no judgement made?”

“Shut up…” Jeremy bumped their shoulders together playfully and laughed as the last of Michael’s hesitation and worry disappeared.

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy was fourteen when he realised that Michael’s house felt more like a home than his own.

“Jere? You’ve zoned out on me, buddy. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jeremy sighed as Michael paused the game and turned to face him. “Just haven’t slept well.”

Michael’s face fell. “Is it still your parents?”

“I don’t get why they have to be so... so… stand-off ish!! They’re not arguing in front of me, they just act like strangers who are forced to live together.” He paused to breathe properly, realising how worked up he was getting. “Mom’s always in a bad mood, and Dad’s always trying to be indifferent about it all.”

“You know you can always just stay here? Think of my basement as the safe place.”

“...Thanks, Michael.”

“We’re away from all arguments and parents here!”

“Except us, of course.” Michael’s mom came down the stairs at that exact moment, smirking and leaning against the door frame. “I’m here to tell you boys that there’s food upstairs for you.”

“Who cooked? You or Mama?”

“Well, it wasn’t me.”

“Great, then it’ll be edible!” Michael jumped up and grabbed Jeremy’s hand, leading him out of the room running, ignoring the playful yells of protest coming from his mom behind them.

Jeremy felt a laugh bubbling in his chest as he bounded up the stairs by Michael’s side, hands intertwined and giggles bouncing off the walls.

His house was never so loud with laughter and jokes, it was instead quiet with the ticking of something waiting to explode.

“Smell that?” Michael asked, snapping him yet again back into reality. “That’s the smell of nice food, not burning.”

Jeremy smiled, a small smile but a completely genuine one of happiness. “Smells like home.”

And Michael’s soft smile in response was all he could wish for.

 

* * *

 

 Jeremy was fifteen when life smacked him right in the face. Or, more precisely, his mother smacked him in the face with a door as she left and didn’t return.

You know, maybe if that actually happened and wasn’t just a metaphor, it would hurt slightly less.

“She’s not coming back. She said she was moving forward with her life.” Jeremy said bitterly into the phone held pressed against his cheek, the quiet breathing on the other side the only reassurance that he wasn’t completely alone in this world, the eerily silent house surrounding him leaving him feeling drained and left for dead.

“She’s been on the brink of leaving for a while, you said?” Michael almost whispered on the other side of the call. It was hard to make out his words, probably bad reception quality from his basement or something.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean I thought she was just going to walk out on us like this,” Jeremy grumbled, sitting on one beanbag in his room.

“I didn’t say that. You couldn’t have seen that coming. Now, open your front door.” Michael said. Jeremy sat up in confusion to the last statement.

“What?”

“Open your front door, it’s kinda cold out here.”

Jumping up from his seat, Jeremy began making his way to the front door as quickly and silently as he could, still unwilling to disturb his father in his ‘mourning’. He flung the door open and was indeed met with one Michael Mell in a black hoodie, shivering slightly with his hands in his pockets and neck bare from headphones.

Jeremy didn’t even hesitate to hug Michael, flinging his arms around him and half-burying his face into his neck as Michael’s surprise went away and he wrapped his arms around his waist.

“Why the hell did you come?” The slightly taller boy mumbled without letting him go.

“You needed me to. My moms won’t care, not if I explain it all.” Michael replied in an equally soft voice.

Jeremy leant back from him, the biting wind slowly freezing his skin. “Come on, its cold out there. I have bean bags, video games and food for my depression.”

Michael let out a low chuckle as he nodded and followed Jeremy inside, letting the door shut behind him.

“Michael?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you really walk here at 1 am?”

“No…”

“Dude.”

“I ran half the way.”

“You idiot, Micah!”

“’Micah’? What happened to ‘Mikey’?”

“…Shut up.”

“I like it.”

 

* * *

 

 Jeremy was sixteen when everything was okay and good but he still wanted better.

Jeremy was sixteen when he traded his best friend for a minty supercomputer.

Jeremy was sixteen when he got a new group of friends who liked a fake version of him.

Jeremy was sixteen when he attended a Halloween party like no other.

Jeremy was sixteen when he almost destroyed the entire school.

Jeremy was sixteen when he got with the girl of his dreams.

 

Jeremy was sixteen when he first realised how it felt to want to die.

 

* * *

 

 Jeremy was sixteen when he questioned how he ever thought he could go anywhere without his best friend.

Two weeks after the play, his friendship group of two geeks – one of them being himself - had evolved into six people who weren’t as perfect as everyone else thought, his wonderful ex-girlfriend-but-wonderful-friend and his longtime best friend.

A few months ago, if you had told him that he’d be sitting next to Christine Canigula as Michael would be smiling at Chloe Valentine and laughing with Rich Goranski, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Mainly because of the social hierarchy that Michael purposefully didn’t give a shit about and Jeremy wanted in on.

“You okay, Jeremy?” Christine asked from beside him, her arm nudging his and her eyes happy but slightly worried.

“I’m good.” For emphasis, he smiled, before leaning forward so the two of them could butt in on the conversation between the others. He laughed with them as halfway through Jake speaking Rich began playfully pointing and gagging at Brooke kissing Chloe’s cheek, making both girls blush furiously but smiling.

“What did you say months ago, Valentine?”

“Let me think, Jakey… Didn’t she say,” Rich cleared his throat before resuming his speaking in a much higher mocking voice, “’I like gay people!’”

“Says you!”

“I am bisexual!”

“WE KNOW, RICH.”

“I think there’s nothing wrong with some pride!”

“You can’t talk, Mr I’ve-Had-A-Gay-Patch-On-My-Hoodie-For-Forever.”

“Shut it, Jeremiah.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jeremy was seventeen when things started fitting into place in his life.

“You’re old now. How do you feel?” Michael teased by his side.

It was his seventeenth birthday, and Chloe, Brooke and Christine had been completely determined to throw him a party for the occasion. His only request was that it was only their friend group involved.

So now he was in the kitchen of Brooke’s house, her parents having left the house for the weekend to the eight of them.

“Jeremy! You need a drink!” Brooke announced loudly, holding a mug with some form of alcoholic beverage in her hand. Her tone made Jeremy shiver from déjà vu, mind flashing back to a Halloween party the year before. Michael must have somehow noticed his change in attitude from the other side of the room as he began making his way over to Jeremy.

“I got it, Brooke. you enjoy your… whatever that is.” Michael smiled as Brooke nodded enthusiastically and made her way to the others in the living room.

“Hey,” Jeremy said quietly as Brooke’s departure left the two of them alone in the kitchen.

“Hey.” Michael echoed. Silence fell in the room as the laughs of Christine carried through the air. “So, did you want a drink?”

Michael stood up and started rummaging through the few bottles of alcohol, offering beer bottles and mugs of ‘vodka-something’.

“Nah, not really. Are you drinking?” Jeremy asked as he jumped up onto the counter.

“Maybe a little.” The shorter boy looked up at him, a beer clutched between fingers and a smile on his face.

Jeremy felt his heart flutter.

“You gonna head back in?” Michael was asking with a tilt to his head.

“Wait, I wanted to say something first.” Jeremy blurted out.

“Yeah?” Michael was stopped a few feet from Jeremy.

“So, I’m about to tell everyone this but I think it’s only fair if I tell you personally before since that’s what you did to me,” Jeremy explained in a rush, leading Michael to step forward and take his hand to slow him, still looking confused.

“Breathe, Jere.”

Jeremy took a breath and then with a nod began speaking again. “Um, okay. I’m bisexual.”

Michael’s eyes widened for a moment before he was beaming and hugging Jeremy, pulling him off the counter and making both of them laugh. Jeremy wrapped his arms around his best friend and felt his cheeks pull with how wide he was smiling at Michael’s enthusiasm.

And a few minutes later when Jeremy told his other six friends, they were all smiling and congratulating him on coming out and laughing as the jokes began, but he could still feel Michael’s arms around him from earlier as he leaned into his warmth on the small couch.

 

* * *

 

 Jeremy was seventeen when things didn’t seem so terrifying and Michael seemed closer than ever.

“We should do 'fuck, marry, kill'!” The two of them were back in Michael’s basement with a power-outage, watching torches and candles flicker and dance in the shadows. A movie was playing on Jeremy’s laptop, slowly draining its battery.

“You’re tired, Micah.” Jeremy sighed with a smile. The shorter boy’s head was on his lap, glasses and comfort headphones discarded and his hair tangled around Jeremy’s fingers.

“You never call me that.”

“Do you want me to call you Micah more often?”

“Yeah.” Michael’s eyes flickered closed for a moment before opening wide again. “You know how its bad to kiss someone if they’re drunk because they can’t consent?”

Not the conversation Jeremy was expected 3 am on a Saturday in August. “...Yeah. Where is this going, dude?”

“Does tiredness count as being drunk? Because I want to kiss you.”

And suddenly Jeremy couldn’t breathe. Air was going in and out of his lungs but everything was shaken.

Michael wanting to kiss him? Romantic feelings? Okay, yes, over the past few months the two had gotten closer – both as friends and in terms of affection – and Jeremy had some vague unconscious wishful thinking that maybe Michael liked him, but it was just that. Wishful thinking.

“Jere?”

Jeremy smiled through all his blushing and pressed a kiss to Michael’s cheek. “When you’re not drunk off a lack of sleep, Micah.”

The next morning, Jeremy woke up having slept in the same bed as Michael (not uncommon, the two had often shared a bed when sleeping over because they didn’t want to be unfair to the other by making them sleep on the floor) but he didn’t see Michael asleep like normal at this hour, or even lying awake next to him. Instead, he was wide awake and sat on the floor at the end of the bed, facing the window with the terrified expression of someone who remembered his tired self’s words.

“Micah?” Jeremy sank down to sit next to him on the ground, leaning back against his bed.

He turned around then, realising that Jeremy was awake, quickly masking his face into a tired smile. “Hey.”

“What’s going on?” Jeremy asked hesitantly, not quite realising what Michael had remembered.

“How tired was I last night?” Michael asked in lieu of a response to Jeremy.

Jeremy remembered what Michael had said. “You were, uh… pretty tired. Kind of delirious.”

Michael looked terrified and as if he might try and escape the situation through the window or the floor.

“It was kinda cute, as well.” Jeremy finished, avoiding Michael’s shocked face as he felt his cheeks heat up with a blush.

“W-What?” Michael stammered, a smile in his voice.

“Yeah.”

“So, about what I said last nig-“

“I’d really like it!” Jeremy practically shouted, interrupting Michael. “If, uh, you meant what you said, and you’re not still deliriously tired. I’d like to.” He finished in a normal volume with an even more obvious blush.

Jeremy was seventeen when Michael Mell kissed him at 9 am on his bedroom floor in their pyjamas.

**Author's Note:**

> should i do a parallel fic with michael? let me know!


End file.
